𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙁𝙡𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨 ⚠ slow updates ⚠ *editing*

Siege of the North pt. 2

*this might seem rushed at the end, and I will edit it later, however I think I've been keeping everyone waiting far too long, and for that I am sorry. Please enjoy the finale of Book One*

In the darkness of her room-turned cell, the horrible images of her parent's bodies flashed through her mind in bright, vivid colors. And seeing them in the Spirit World vanished those horrible last moments of them, but it didn't erase them. They were still dead no matter how many ways she tried looking at it. She couldn't reverse time and undo the damage. She couldn't bring them back to life. 

She'd always tried to imagine the monster who ruined her life, what hair color he had, his eyes, and whether he randomly chose her parents or not. 

It wasn't an accident, that much was clear. Zhao. A "War Hero". A great fleet leader. Zhao, the man with an iron fist over his men. Zhao, the lowly murderer. 

Her eyes burned again. Sadness, perhaps, but the more the thought lingered, the more that sadness turned into venom-like fury. It could have seared her insides; it felt so destructive. 

The way she flung her fire out, she should've been shocked by firebending so suddenly. She could almost laugh at herself. Ironic how she hurt someone the last time she used her firebending, she did the same the second time around. She had hoped when she was comfortable enough to deal with that trauma of bending, she would have rekindled herself with the help of both Iroh and Zuko. The fates seemed to wish differently.

She wanted to use her flames for good, but why was she adamant about using them when something terrible uncovers itself? 

No, she shook her head. He deserved everything that was coming to him. She couldn't fathom the lives he took to get what he wanted, though guessing didn't help either. He was a man of war. Violence would be the first thing to come to mind.

Zhao. Her lips quivered. He was going to pay for taking the first people who ever loved her away from her. 

And then her mother's face flashed through her mind. All the anger she had washed away into sadness. She curled herself on the floor, stuffing her face into the skirt of her dress. Soon the fabric became wet with her tears. 

Pain. Anguish. Despair. Fury. Swirling inside her, it felt like the heat of a thousand fires. The same heat of the flames she bended. Hot and unforgiving.

She felt vulnerable, like she was a child again. 

A sad, tiny child with no power or voice. Zhao made her feel as such. She felt disgusted. She should think of something else. Maybe Zuko, or Iroh. Iroh wouldn't allow anything to happen to her.

Metallic squealing of her chamber door distracted her. Her eyes flickered to the entrance as it was opened. A guard slipped inside. Warning bells went off in her head.

"Leave me." She tried sounding cold, but instead, she sounded broken.

The guard didn't say anything, only closed the door behind him.

"Didn't you hear me?" She glared at the guard and stood. "I said, leave!"

Again, the guard made no indication of leaving. Instead, he moved toward her. 

"Is this another of Zhao's attempts to try and break me?"

Halfway to her, the guard raised his arms, reaching for his helmet. Her heart pounded, recognizing the burn mark. Hot tears prickled her eyes. 

"You're...!" She rushed at her friend, her body colliding with his. The armor he wore was a convincing disguise. "You're alive."

"I'm sorry to have tricked you, Hestia." Zuko said in a low tone, his arms embracing her securely.